23rd Annual Hunger Games (SYOT- Closed)
by Moonlitdaze
Summary: All the coverage you need of the 23rd Annual Hunger Games! From tribute scores, to sponsorships, to up-to-date coverage of the actual games! Your tributes needed. Please send them in! (Submissions closed)
1. District One Female

**Here is a sample of the "reapings" you will be reading in the story. This is Michilolita's tribute, the District 1 Female and was written by Michilolita, the co-autohor the story (posted with her consent):**

There was an awkward, drawn out silence at the breakfast table; my parents sat frozen in shock upon my announcement reaching their ears. It was not the first time they had heard the words like mine but it was the first time they had heard it come from my lips. The simple ticks of the clocks echoed in the spotless dining hall as my mother looked down at the golden locket my father had given her during her pregnancy with me, their only child, to look at the miniature portraits inside of it. My father's golden eyes pierced into my own golden orbs with such hurt, surprise and anguish I almost recanted my proclamation.  
It seemed as though hours passed in this lull but it was only a few minutes. My plush seat seemed to turn into needles as I waited for a verbal response from either my mother or father. My stomach twisted in angst. I hated waiting. Patience was not a virtue I possessed. I just want a freaking, verbal response!  
"Blush," My mother whispered but her voice still caught me off guard making me jump slightly.  
"Yes?" I responded regaining my calm.  
"Is it because of Vet and Mot?" She inquired. I could see tears forming in her azure eyes as she mentioned the names of my deceased cousins. She already knew the answer as did my father.  
"Yes," I affirmed clearing my suddenly knotted throat.  
"You're going to risk your life just to finish what they started? Are you really that foolish? You could die!" My father practically screamed at me from across the table.  
"I know I could die, Dad! I know! But do you have such little faith in me that I would just go in there untrained and lie down waiting for another to strike me down without a fight? " I stood up knocking over my chair, "Since childhood Vet and Mot trained me to be the best then our other instructors! I have been preparing myself for years! I know what I am doing! I will be victorious and will return to you!"  
"I refuse for you to risk your life! I will not let you leave this house with such plans as that!"  
"You can't keep me here! It's mandatory for me to go!"  
"I'll pay off some officials. We can tell them you are deathly ill or…you're pregnant! Surely, they could not allow a pregnant girl to participate, could they? I'll make some calls and-"  
"Enough, Sable," My mother interrupted my father's rant.  
"But, Rouge, she-"  
"It's her life, Sable. I agree it is foolish but if she feels she must do it, she must. We can't stop her."  
"Thank you, Mom," I was glad she gave some support.  
"But, Blush, I really want you to reconsider before you do anything rash. There's no turning back after you volunteer."  
"I know, Mom, but I have to do this. I don't think I could live a happy life if I did not do this."  
"You'd rather die than live a normal life?" My father sounded so ashamed.  
"Yes, I know you don't understand but this is my destiny."  
My father shook his head gravely as my mother took his hand. My mother kept her eyes on me and forced a smile.  
"Just think about it, Blush."  
I felt so uncomfortable once silence filled the room again. I could not stand it! I had to get away from them. I took my leave of the room and began walking around my illustrious house for one last time. It had to be one of the nicest houses in District 1 which was understandable since my father was the owner of District 1's most prosperous furrier companies and my mother was one of Panem's favorite models. Some may believe I want to volunteer for the Games to make a name for myself, gain more riches or just for the pleasure of killing but I just want to win the Games for my dear cousins, Civet and Bergamot. I must honor them with my victory or at least participation.  
"Miss Fay," The longing voice I recognized to be my new butler called out to me. I turned on my heel to face the pathetic but rather cute chap with the signature smile on my face that I wore no matter the situation. My mother taught me smiling makes people feel more comfortable, makes us look more attractive and that it can hide our true feelings.  
"Yes, Emerald, sweetheart?" I acted as love struck as he did.

"Miss Fay, I'm here to notify you that it is time for the Reaping," Emerald informed me with obvious hints of sadness in his voice. It had been terribly apparent that he was taken with me for weeks now and he kept following constantly believing I didn't notice. He probably overheard my conversation with my parents and is now sadden at my decision. He acts just like a silly puppy following its master when normal nineteen year olds are more independent. Tis sad really but he is fun to play with when I am bored.  
"Oh, is that all? Well, I guess I have to go then, Emerald. It was nice knowing you," I passed him with a fake pout which made him almost grab me. Once I passed him I tried not to smile at his pitiful facial expression.  
"Miss Fay!" He finally called after me once I reached the front door. I spun around like a tragic heroine when her lover calls her which was probably what he thought this situation was. He ran up to me, swoop me into his arms and began to speak.  
"Oh, Miss Fay, I can't let you go with your fate so unsure in the hands of the Capitol without telling you how I feel!"  
I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at him. He was so adorable and pathetic at the same time.  
"Tell me, Emerald. How do you feel?"  
"I lo-"  
"Mr. Baxter, let Miss Fay go!" The killjoy Mrs. Hartley ordered interrupting this almost tender and hilarious moment. He released me and walked away like a dog with his tail between his legs. I smoothed my white silk dress and my never ending crimson curls as Mrs. Hartley glared at me, a scolding on the tip of her tongue.  
"I'm sorry about him, Mrs. Hartley, I don't know what got into him," I smiled and made sure my voice was sweet and innocent.  
"Save it, Miss Fay. I don't know why you find pleasure in toying with that poor boy but you need to stop. When I was your age my mother would have beaten me black and blue for such behavior," She lectured.  
"Perhaps, if I plucked out your eyes it wouldn't bother you so much," I mumbled with the same happy face.  
"What did you say?" The hag must have been deaf.  
"Nothing," I kept my grin.  
Mrs. Hartley escorted me to the town car which proceeded to quickly transport me to town square. The area was already filled with anxious segregated children varying between the ages of twelve and eighteen. I, myself, was seventeen and in the prime for the Games. I took my place with the other girls. Each one of us was trained for her name to be called but usually none of the girls really wanted her name called.  
We all stood there a few more minutes before the Capitol's video came on screen. It was the same video they showed every year as if I really cared much about the video. I just wanted to know who was going to be tribute.  
Our district's Capitol escort, Oleander Bent, finally came on stage. He was an orange haired skeleton covered in fuchsia feathers, tucked in purple tights and he had on heels. He introduced himself enthusiastically before finally putting his hand in the bowl to pull out the female name. My heart raced. Who would it be? It would probably be some idiot that finds her appearance more important than her skills or like this simpering scaredy-cat next to me now.  
"This year's lovely lady from District 1 will be…" Oleander's high pitched voice dragged out causing my anxiety to skyrocket. He was doing this on purpose to have more screen time and make everything more suspenseful. I just wish he would read the loser's name so I could just volunteer. I bet the girl will be some daft, untrained bimbo who will begin wailing upon her name being called while I will embrace the career lifestyle and volunteer then go one to be this year's victor… Man, I wish this twit would speed up so I can just volunteer. These vain Capitol people are so exasperating. Just hurry up already! Name the stupid tribute so I can volunteer!  
"Blush Fay."  
My heart stopped.


	2. District One Male

**And we've filled all the spots and the reaping can commence! **

**Thank you to all who all who sent their tributes. We enjoyed them all. **

**Let the reaping begin!**

"Bull's-eye!" My younger brother cheered as my arrow pierced the center of my target. He acted like a dog as he ran to retrieve my arrow.

"You're definitely going to win, Glisten! You're the best archer I've ever seen!" Luster flattered me in all honesty as he presented my steel arrow. I patted his sandy head as I accepted his praise and the arrow.

"Thank you, Luster."

I raised my bow and arrow again to shoot but seeing my brother staring so intently I decided to give him a show since this would be the last time he would see me till after I win the Hunger Games. Turning my back to the target I could see the surprise sparkling in his blue eyes. I contorted my arms in order to aim at the distant target. I could sense my brother's dubious thoughts about my positioning but in a moment he would be amazed.

"Bull's-eye," came from my unbelieving brother who stood paralyzed. His shock turned to awe before he showered me in more truthful praise. He fetched the arrow to return it to me. He grinned with such pride which was perfectly sensible since I was his brother.

"Glisten, Luster, it's time to go!" I heard my mother call my twelve year old brother and I from the stairwell leading from our basement/training arena to our first floor.

"Alright, we're coming!" I shouted back before hanging up my bow and arrows. Luster ran up the stairs excited for his first reaping. This year was to be my last year to be available for the reaping and I decided with the consent of my parents that I would volunteer as District 1's male tribute. It would the greatest honor to win the Games and receive not only wealth but eternal glory as a victor!

"Where are they, Glow?" I heard my father ask my mother when I finally reached the first floor.

"They're right here, Shine!" My mother shoved us towards the entry hall where my father waited with my sisters, Sparkle and Glitter.

Sparkle was positioned on my older sister's back as though she were a backpack. Since I might die, (highly unlikely) my family wanted to come with me to town square since my time after the reaping will be limited.

Encouraging words were exchanged as we left our large home to walk to town square. The whole time my mother kept adjusting and readjusting my white suit that all of the wealthy District 1 boys wore to the reaping. My brother kept fidgeting with his and could not tie his tie correctly so my father finally stopped to help him. As we came closer to town square I slowed my walking aware of what I was doing. I could see my sisters and parents getting good seating to watch the reaping while Luster excitedly get in line to be registered. I had sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was I experiencing fear? I know many of my fellow classamtes have confided in me they have before the reaping. Ha! As if I would fear something! I am the fearless Glisten Borne, the best archer in all of Panem! I probably just had some bad eggs for breakfast.

I regained my confident walk as I joined my friends to register. My best friend Sorrel came up to me after my finger was pricked. He had a nervous vibe about him that he got every year at this time. Sorrel was never good at combat and he would faint at the sight of blood. It was odd that we would be friends but fate had us this way.

"Hello, Glisten," He greeted me gloomily.

"Hey, Sorrel, are you nervous?" I asked already knowing the answer as we headed to our section.

"Of course I am nervous! What I am picked! I won't last two minutes in the Games! I am a weakling! I will die and who will take care of my mother and sisters?" Sorrel ranted his fears to me as he did every year since we were twelve.

"Listen, Sorrel, if you're picked I will simply volunteer to take your place," I smiled to him. He simply thought I was just being a good, comforting friend but only I and my family knew my true plans.

"But if you go all our girls will be lonely," Sorrel referred to our classmates that happened to form their own Glisten fan club. Of course a boy my age does not mind having fan girls swarming him in compliments and kisses. I grinned to Sorrel.

"Well, you'll just have to comfort them for me," I elbowed his ribs with a chuckle.

Before we could continue talking I saw our District's escort, Oleander, come on stage with his horrid orange hair. It looked like he just came from killing a flock of flamencos then they bled purple blood on his bony legs. He had this shrill voice that almost made my ear bleed as he enthusiastically introduced himself. He finally stuck his hand into the girl bowl to pull out a name. He took his sweet time doing so which I could see made the anxiety of the girls rise. I myself could care less about who the girl is as long as I could manipulate her into being my lackey in the Games.

"Blush Fay."

My jaw dropped as did everyone else's. Blush Fay was the daughter of probably one of the most powerful men in District 1 and yet she was selected. But cheers rang through the stadium as she practically skipped to the stage with a pleased smile on her face. I mentally groaned for though Blush was extremely beautiful and one of the best trained girls, she was not in love with me, her only fault.

I stared at our district's red haired tribute as we all waited for Oleander to pull the male name. Who would it be? Would it be me? It does not matter if it is me for I will simply volunteer anyway. I hoped for it not to be my brother or Sorrel or any of my close guy friends but my hopes were not granted.

"Sorrel Lent," Oleander's voice cracked as did Sorrel's mind. Sorrel seemed to have a heart as soon as his name was uttered. He looked at me with short, uneven, panicked breaths. His gray eyes screamed for me to fulfill my previous promise.

"I volunteer!" I raised my hand confidently, "I volunteer as tribute."

I heard some shrieks from the female section with my motion. I simply smiled as did Oleander. He motioned for me to come on the stage which I cheerfully did. I looked to Blush who had her signature smile on her face. Oleander quickly asked my name which I replied with no hesitation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present the 23 Annual Hunger Games tributes of District 1, Blush Fay and Glisten Borne," Oleander exclaimed receiving cheers from our home people and he threw our arms up as if we were already victors. I glanced back to Blush to perhaps give her a flirty wink but I stopped as I looked into her viperish gold eyes that radiated an ominous aura. Suddenly, she winked and blew me a kiss. Perhaps she would be more usable in the foreseeable future.


	3. District Two Female

I had been awake for hours but I stayed in bed. I was not afraid of what this day was about but rather I was just excited. Today, I, Taylor Rose Harris, was going to volunteer as tribute for District 2. I had undergone years of hardcore training in preparation for this day. I was going to become the victor of the 23rd Hunger Games!

When I saw the time on my bedside clock, I slid out of bed to go to my closet door where I saw the outfit my sister Imogen had picked out last night. She stated she did not want me embarrassing her by wearing a lame outfit at her first Reaping ceremony. As if I cared if I embarrassed that selfish brat. But I had to admit the silvery dress and sandals did flatter me and cover up the scars on my back and upper leg. Soon I sat down at my vanity to make sure I looked perfect. I brushed out my long blonde hair before tying it back in a very tight bun. I began applying appropriate makeup to cover my freckles. As I raised the powder brush to my face I frowned. I would have to apply makeup to my hand's scar later.

After finishing my primping that should be to Imogen's approval, I exited my room to go eat breakfast with my siblings. I saw as I came to the table that as always my parents were absent due to their work as well as my brother Brook. I sat beside Brook's twin William and Imogen. Imogen had barely touched her and we all knew she would not anymore in order to maintain her "figure". She was twelve years old and acted as though she were older than me. She kept looking at her reflection in the mirror in the dining room. She looked at me slightly pleased with my outfit but I could tell she preferred her shiny pink one. William was reading a book about weapons yet again. He repeated a few lines in order to remember what he read. He knew that in four year when he would be eighteen he would volunteer as tribute while his twin could care less about the games and thus began working with our father. I dug into my egg whites, oatmeal and few links of sausage.

It seemed as soon as I finished my meal I looked to the clock to see that it was already time to go. So we left our home to head towards downtown to be with the other children between twelve and eighteen. I guess my excitement caused time to fly for before I knew I was already registered and standing among my peers. Everyone knew I was going to volunteer as tribute so they all smiled to me and gave me encouraging words. I did not really care if they were proud of me or wanted me to win. I just wanted to win and that was all. I did not care about getting a new house or riches. I just wanted to prove that my years of training were not for nothing. I knew there were also two guys vying for the chance to volunteer as tribute but the first to raise his hand and announce his decision would be chosen.

I could see the first male candidate was Festus Cork who was eighteen and perfect for the games. He was almost six foot eight and was covered in rippling muscles. He had been planning his volunteering since childhood. He could obliterate a hundred year old tree with one punch. I would not mind having him as my district partner but killing him would be a challenge.

The other candidate was the four eyed loser Cameo Masson. He was a seventeen like me but usually guys waited till they were eighteen. He is like a short frail doll compared to Festus. I mean he randomly announced his intentions to volunteer yesterday at school during a training session. I don't know why Four-Eyes would volunteer when he is so ill equipped for such battling as the Hunger Games but he would be an easy target to kill well easier than Festus.

The tapping of the microphone made everyone focus their attention on the huge stage where our district escort Ki-Ki Emmetson stood practically being swallowed in her puffy dress that was being consumed by sequins and bows. She was very…energetic with her annual monologue about the games and such. I could care less about what she was to say. I heard it all every year and now I was ready to volunteer. Soon Ki-Ki stuck her pink dyed hand into the girl's bowl and picked out a piece of paper.

"Agrippa Moss," Ki-Ki squeaked. This was my queue!

"I volunteer!" I shouted with a raised hand. I motioned to come forward. Everyone smiled and clapped for me as I got onto the stage with the hideously dressed woman.

"What is your name, sugar?" I hated her new pet name for me.

"Taylor Harris," Was my clam response.

"District 2's female tribute this year is Taylor Harris!" Ki-Ki informed the crowd and thousands of viewers of my name. And they were not going to forget it.


	4. District Two Male

"Please, don't do it, Cameo," Priscilla begged.

"I have to, Priscilla, so I am going to and that is that!" I stated full of determination.

"But, why?" her gold eyes held all the emotions I had tried to protect her from since our mother disappeared. I had fought off suitors to save her from this look and now she had it because of me. I could not bring myself to tell her what I had overheard our father discuss with that scumbag from the Capitol two days ago.

"Your daughter is very pretty. How old is she?" I had been walking past the den when I heard the pig-faced Capitol man's voice.

"She's…fi-no-six-no…fourteen," My father slurred after straining to remember his own child's age.

"You know, Mortimer, she could get you a lot of money in the Capitol."

"How could she?" My father took another swig of the alcohol the swine brought.

"Well, I know some gentlemen, wealthy gentlemen, in the Capitol that would love to own a delight like your sweet Priscilla." I had to control myself from jumping out to strangle the man for my father would never do this…would he? My father just sat as if not interested.

"They would pay enough to keep you more than comfortable for three times the rest of your life."

"Well, then, Mr. Pepperidge, you have yourself a-"

"No!" I jumped out from my safe place behind the door.

"Get out of here, Cameo!" My father ordered me.

"No! You can't sell Priscilla to this Capitol scum!"

"Shut up, boy! This man is going to make me richer than anyone else in this d- district. Unless you can get me more money," My father laughed at his idea that I could ever get him any money.

It was then the idea, the idea that my sister abhorred and begged me not to do, popped into my head.

"I'll volunteer, father! I will volunteer for this year's Hunger Games. I can win and get you enough money."

"Ha! Boy, you couldn't win the Games! You're too short, too thin and because of your mother's family you can't see without those d- thick glasses!" my father spat out my faults.

"Father, I will volunteer. If I lose you can sell Priscilla to this trash but if I win you can have my winnings but Priscilla will stay with me."

My father sat contemplating the deal. It was really a win-win situation for him. Lose two children and have loads of money or keep both of his children and gain a new house, fame and loads of money.

"You have yourself a deal, son," My father stood up to shake hands with me. I could see Mr. Pepperidge glaring at me.

"Why, Cameo?" Priscilla drew me out of my memories. I wrapped her into my arms; she was so small in my arms.

"Priscilla, I can't tell you now so please, don't ask me why anymore," I whispered to her sorrowfully. I am truly sad but I must protect her. She pulled away from me and slipped off our mother's golden ring from her right ring finger and put into my hand.

"Well, take this then, Cameo…for good luck," She forced a smile that to others would have appeared happy but I knew it was fake. I slipped the ring on to my pinky for only there did it fit.

"Let's go," I said noticing the swarm of our classmates coming down the road to go to town square. We were quickly registered and separated. My buff classmates seemed to glare at me and whisper as I passed. I knew they were not happy with me since only yesterday I announced my intention to volunteer when everyone wanted Festus Cork to do so. I heard them whispering things like "I bet the nerd was just joking. There's no way he could even survive the Cornucopia," or "Four eyes must be wanting attention and that's why he is trying to rile up Festus." They could believe what they wanted because I could care less what they thought. Unlike Festus, I wanted to win to save my sister not gain glory. I could see Festus's sharp gray eyes sending daggers towards me as well as a threat that if I dared volunteer in _his_ year that I would not even make it to the stage.

I looked from my competition to the stage where the nasal Ki-Ki stood to talk about the Games. I did not understand why people from the Capitol dressed so odd and dyed their skin like Ki-Ki had dyed her skin pink. What was up with that? But I ignored everything she said till a name was called out.

"Agrippa Moss."

"I volunteer!" All eyes went to the expected female volunteer, Taylor Harris. Like a lot of the girls in District 2, she was stone faced. She lacked any emotion on her face or in her eyes. If she was extremely depressed or tremendously excited no one could ever tell especially with her monotone voice.

"District 2's female tribute this year is Taylor Harris!"

I did not like her. Ever since I was eleven and got my first pair of glasses she was the one who had called me "Four Eyes" (I had already earned the nickname "nerd" by that time) and my dislike of her began.

"Drusus Mac-," Ki-Ki called out and signaling for any volunteers to volunteer. It was a race to see who could raise their hand and announce their intention first.

"I volunteer!" I shouted with raised hand before she could even finish Drusus's name. People were gasping in shock as other sent more glares to me. However, I was motioned forward by the elated Ki-Ki. I could not tell what Taylor was thinking at all.

"What's your name, cutie-pie?" Ki-Ki licked her lips.

"Cameo Masson."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present your tributes for the 23rd Annual Hunger Games, Taylor Harris and Cameo Masson!" Ki-Ki encouraged but the people were only half satisfied with their representatives. I could see my sister tearing up in her section but once she saw me look at her she forced another fake smile but the hurt look her eyes stung my heart. I would never let anyone including me ever make her look that way again.

* * *

**End of Michilolita's first arc**


	5. District Three Female

**Moonlit's Arc Beigins here...**

* * *

My house was quiet the morning of the reaping, like nearly every other house in District 3 was. I sat on my bed, starring at the dirty clock and hoping that, someway, somehow time would be suspended. I had no such luck. The offending second hand continued to tick on, the minute hand following its lead soon after.

Sighing, I looked at myself in my simple bedroom mirror, my blue and silver reaping dress shinning against my chocolate skin. My dark hair, let free from its usual restrain for the sake of the occasion, tumbled nimbly to the middle of my back.

I let my shoulders fall. I looked like her.

"Cascia," the younger of my two brothers appears in my doorway, "breakfast." He too in dressed for the reaping, his last one. Now at the age of eighteen, if he escapes today never again does he have to live life in fear of being picked. As he stares at me, I wonder if he secretly thinks I deserve to be reaped.

He was close to her, our mother. And I took her life, took her away from him. His resentment of me has never been open, but there was something about his eyes whenever he looked at me―they turned dark, as if he were suddenly capable of very black thoughts. And it's always the worst on reaping days, ever since my name first went into the pool.

Wordlessly, I skirt around him and go into our small kitchen, where my oldest brother has cooked our breakfast. Both he and my dad are already seated, and my other brother and I take our seats, completing the Porter family. The chair that was once graced by my mother is empty, as it has been for sixteen years.

The meal is mediocre, as my brother is not much of a cook, but even the finest delicacies would have been tasteless before a reaping. Our plates were soon clean, the dishes piled in the sink for later. And the minute hand finally shifted, commanding us with its little tick that it was time to leave.

The youngest of my brothers walks ahead of me as we dutifully filed towards the registration tables like the others aged twelve to eighteen in our district. The other half of our family went to watch with the parents, the mass of adults silently praying that is won't be, "their baby taken."

I get to the front of the line, my finger is pricked, and, in a daze, I find myself standing in the middle of all the other fifteen-year-old girls of my district. I try to hid behind a taller girl, as if hiding will make my name disappear from that bowl.

I spot Effrain, District 3's Capitol sector, flounce across the stage. He gave the usual speech everyone in 3 has heard from his overly bloated lips for years. With the blood rushing in my ears and my heart pounding, I never heard a word.

"As usual," Effrain said, finally prancing up to the bowl, "we're going to start with ladies first." He reached into the pool of names, making a big show of it while he did so. "And, the lucky lady that will be representing District 3 in the 23rd Annual Hunger Games is―" he dramatically unfolded the paper―"Cascia Porter."

_No._

Surely he hadn't said my name. I was just dreaming it.

But everyone turned to look at me expectantly, and Effrain was beckoning me forward. With heavy legs, I managed to make the impossibly long walk to the platform. Effrain grabbed my numb arm, holding it dramatically up in the air.

"This year's female representative, Cascia Porter."

An awkward clap rippled through the square. Then nothing.

"I can tell how antsy you are to hear it," Effrain gushed, "so let's move on to the boys!"


	6. District Three Male

I woke up to utter silence that seemed district-wide. I could hear my parents in the kitchen already, talking in hushed tones as Mother prepared breakfast. I squinted in the first rays of early sunlight to see Mother had already laid out my reaping clothes. Slowly, I kicked off the covers and crept over to see what she had selected. It was just simple blue cotton pants and a white shirt, but I put on both with little resistance (there was no getting out of a Reaping) and headed downstairs.

My parents and three siblings (two brothers, and Nekkah, my little sister) were already seated around the table. No one was talking, no one was eating. Nekkah was crying. As Mom wordlessly prepared my plate, I reached over and place my hand assuringly on top of my sister's. "It'll be alright," I told her, "tonight, you can come to the garage with me and help Dad."

This seemed to satisfy her, at least enough for her to take a bite or two, but it was soon time to go. Everyone always arrived at the reaping on time in District 3...we'd all be late, if the Peacekeepers let us, but the Peacekeepers didn't. So we all just showed up on time, and not a minute sooner.

I heard a rumor somewhere that in the Career Districts―1, 2, and 4―kids had races to get to the town square. They shoved each other to get a good view. Then two "lucky" kids volunteered, and everyone was happy. Not so in 3 and the others. No one can count on a volunteer to save a life. In 3, you're reaped and your fate is sealed.

I had plans for my future. Meet a girl, get a decent job, have kids, pray those kids don't get reaped. Anyone in District 3 had plans. But those plans were fragile―all it took was Effrain, our Capitol representative, calling a name. But I'd escaped so far. I could escape again.

My siblings and I got checked in, and then we took our places among our respective gender and age group. Effrain took the stage, babbling on with the usual spiel. It was always the same thing, but I didn't have it memorized. I don't think anyone did. The only thing anyone paid attention to was the name of those that were reaped.

When Effrain finished, he was ready for the fatal part of the program. "As usual," he sauntered up to the bowl, "we're going to start with the ladies first."

He made his selection, made a big show of reading it, and called, "Cascia Porter." As her name echoed across the ghost-like town-square, everyone looked around to see the poor tribute. But I just sighed in relief. My sister's name had not been called.

The pretty dark skinned Cascia finally made her way to the platform, where Effrain showed her off the masses, redundantly introducing her again. "Now," he said, leaving the shaking girl's side, "I can tell you're all antsy to hear it, so let's move on to the boys."

No one in the square was so much as breathing, so we could hear him rustle around in the bowl. He snatched a paper out, read it, giggled stupidly, and literally tap-danced up to the microphone. "Thaniel Aquirre," he read proudly. My name echoed across the crowds like a knife in my ears.

My heart stopped, and I numbly stepped forward. As I moved up to the platform, everyone was staring at me the way every tribute was starred at―a numb conflict of emotion, somewhere between relief and sympathy.

"District 3," Effrain said, his voice far away, "I give you our tributes for the 23rd Annual Hunger Games. Cascia Porter and Thaniel Aquirre!"

No one clapped.


	7. District Four Female

I walked quietly behind the children pushing and shoving each other as the youth of District for headed to the registration tables. A breeze, cool and salty, was wafting through the square and the weather was mild and warm. A perfect day for a reaping. A perfect day to volunteer.

As I reach the table and hold out my hand, I noticed a few of the younger girls (probably only their first or second reaping) pointing at me and whispering. And they should. Everyone in District 4 knew this way my year to volunteer. My year to shine. I give them a curt nod before locating the other eighteen-year-olds and following the crowds in that direction.

Parents stand off somewhere else in the crowds, little kids sat their father's shoulders, toddlers ran about the square, mothers talked about what they would be cooking for the big celebrations tonight in honor of the new tributes. Me and Sic, that is.

In District 4, reapings area big deal. No one has to worry, because there's always a career to volunteer, even if one's child is selected. There are no surprises in a career district. I will be this year's female tribute, my training partner Sic the male. Everyone has known that since last year's games ended, so no one was fearful was we all got into our groups and watched Anastasia, the lilac haired Capitol representative, go through her yearly spiel.

The history of the Hunger Games, the symbolism of the tributes and victor, yada, yada, yada. I rocked back and forth on my heels, waiting for my chance. I was _ready._

"Alright, alright, alrighty," Anastasia sang, sauntering up to the glass bowl that held the names of every girl between twelve and eighteen in our district. She quickly plucked a name, and she gave an agonizing long pause before reading it.

"Our female tribute is H―"

"I volunteer!" my voice rings through the square, and everyone turns to look up at me.

"Well, alright then," Anastasia gushes.

Two peacekeepers come to help me onto the stage, but I get there mostly on my own. Standing up there, I surveyed the crowds. My mother, refusing to look at me. My brother, glowering at me. And then Korra, my sister. Stupid idiot girl, with that stupid grin upon her face.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Anastasia prompts, and I snap my attention away from my family.

"Koral Windlap," I boldly proclaim, and that's that.

"Koral Windlap, this year's female tribute. Now," Anastasia says, "for our boys."


End file.
